Dragul Rising (Collection)

Blurb:
The Dragul are as old as the Earth. Once, they retreated before the ignorant onslaught of men. Now they're back.

As the world recovers from nuclear holocaust, two cities vie for the right to colonize the empty Highlands. Beth, a restless scientist from the City of the Damned, is sent to test the environment. When she encounters the living embodiment of her erotic dreams -- a golden winged man -- her whole life is thrown into confusion.

As the secret of the Dragul emerges, the half-human vampire Michael takes time out of his mission to their kingdom to rescue Danna, the beautiful shapeshifting Dragon Dancer. Attraction between them is so powerful that Danna begins to believe he is her One -- which would be an unthinkable tragedy when he is already bound to another woman.

Eve, beautiful, clever, visionary, leads a delegation from the human Dome City. She is used to succeeding, but she has never before encountered an opponent like the King of the Dragul. Dark, brooding and overwhelmingly powerful, King Vasil walks a lonely path, dedicated to serving and caring for his people. He is happy to battle Eve with wits, sex and ultimately love, for a prize that turns out to be larger than anyone had previously imagined. Nothing will ever be the same.

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The shadow outside spread its wings across her bedroom window, filling her with intense joy. She sat up in bed, smiling her welcome, and the shadow folded and shimmered through the darkness until it rested instead on the inside.
Not a huge bat or a rare golden eagle as she had once stupidly imagined him, but a beautiful, winged man -- her winged man, totally and gorgeously naked.
Gracefully, he folded his wings behind him like a cloak, and stood very still, consuming her with his dark, grey eyes. Eyes that glistened with lust and power in equal measure. Eyes that melted her with memory and anticipation.
Instinctively, she reached up her trembling arms for him, urgent, pleading, and he smiled, moving at last toward her with slow, sensuous grace.
The bed sank under his weight, but he didn't allow her embrace. Instead, he took both her hands and laid them on his hot, hard cock. Her breath caught. Without intending to, she wrapped her hands more securely around the huge, still-growing shaft and squeezed. A faint twitch of the lips was the only acknowledgement he gave. His own hands had already pulled open the tie of her night shirt, exposing her breasts.
With slow deliberation, he reached out to stroke her nipple. Instantly, it hardened into a begging peak. He lowered his golden head and covered it with his mouth, languorously sucking. At the same time, he took her other breast in his hand and kneaded it until she moaned aloud, tugging his cock in unconscious reflex.
He moved then, with easy, overwhelming strength that brushed aside her hands and brooked no argument -- not that he was getting one. Fluidly, he pressed her back into the pillows and covered her with his big body, parting her legs with his knee so that he could push his massive cock inside her.
She gasped at the first contact, whimpered as he entered her, then moaned with sheer, unbearable pleasure as he slid slowly all the way inside. Always, it was this way when he came to her. His hands set her on fire. She began to come as soon as he touched her pussy. Yet he carried on pleasuring her as he did now, stirring her in leisurely fashion with the circular caresses of his cock, while he dragged his teeth across her throat to tease and bite her nape. And all the while, his bold, sensitive fingers plundered her breasts.
Deep in the throes of the orgasm that seemed to go on forever, she raked her fingers through his hair, pulling it loose from the thread that confined it, and driving on around his neck and shoulders to his back. She found his wings, hard and leathery to the touch, and for the first time, his breath quickened obviously. He thrust into her a little harder, and her convulsing pussy tried to hold him, massage him. Her pleasure heightened impossibly, engulfing her in another tidal wave. Crying out, she reached below his wing to that gossamer soft underside, delicate as a bee's wing, and stroked.
A sound like a growl came from his throat. He ground his hips so closely into hers, she thought they would merge. Pressing back, she grasped some remaining self-control and squeezed him. He groaned as he pulled back and thrust, pulled back and thrust, slowly still, yet with new, determined power that ravished her all over again. Still caressing his gorgeous wing with one hand, she reached further down with her other until she found his tight, thrusting buttocks and pressed him into her as she bucked her hips upward into his.
She cried out again as his teeth nipped her neck, burying her own in the hot, damp skin of his shoulder. His rhythm increased, pounding her as she lay helpless beneath him in a massive avalanche of bliss. When his groans of pleasure became that ultimate shout of triumph, it was so loud she was sure her parents would hear, and yet she could no more think of stopping him, or herself, than she could give up breathing.
Slowly, he lifted his mouth from her neck, his face still clouded with passion, his eyes misted and blind with sexual pleasure as they gazed down into hers. But only when the embers of the fire died down did he finally lower his head once more and take her mouth in his for a first kiss.
It was enough to seduce her sated body once more. Feeling it, he smiled against her lips, licked them, drove his tongue into her mouth.
"Again," he commanded, his deep, low voice sending fresh shivers of anticipation coursing through her entire body, coming to rest at last on the part of her that gripped his still bone-hard shaft. His hand swept down the length of her thigh and back up on the inside until his fingers found her pussy and teased around the skin that wrapped him. "I'm going to make you come again."
A moan broke from her mouth into his, half anticipation, half plea. Words, it seemed, were beyond her.
And then the light snapped on.
Her mother's voice said, "Beth? Are you all right?"
Her heart thundered in her breast. Her nipples ached. Between her legs was wetness, hot pleasure and raging desire. But her arms were empty.
"Beth?"
Under her mother's concern, she had to squeeze her eyes shut and pretend it was the light that bothered her.
"I'm sorry," she managed. "I was dreaming."
"Again?" Frowning, April sank down on the bed, in exactly the spot he had first sat. "What was it this time?"
A pause, then: "I don't remember. I never remember."
But she did. She always remembered. Every look, every tiny caress, every massive pleasure. The trouble was, she couldn't go on like this, living vicariously through wild, sexy dreams. She needed a real lover. It was time to forget the shadow, her beautiful winged man, and move on.
And fortunately, she was not the helpless, passive slave to passion that she always was in her dreams. She was strong, the daughter of two gifted parents, and she knew how to forget. All she really needed was the will.Excerpt from Dragul Dawnhttp://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1343